


Livin' On a Prayer

by SeeEmRunning



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And lets himself react, Angst, Basically Sam knows God isn't listening and uses the time to work things out for himself, Gen, Sam POV, Sam-Centric, Season 9, church, faith - Freeform, lbr when do I write anything that ISN'T Sam-centric?, prayer fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeEmRunning/pseuds/SeeEmRunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After he expels Gadreel from his body, Sam's drawn to the church in Lebanon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 9x12

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So, for the past few weeks, I've been writing Sam praying at the end of every episode. Figured I'd post it. And then update with each new episode.

Sam hesitated. The sign said the meeting would start in five minutes, and he hadn't really gotten much past his warm-up. It was chilly, as Kansas tended to be in February, so he was wearing more than shorts and a wife-beater. Would it be enough for the other attendees? He knew for a fact the reason they came wouldn't give a shit about what he was wearing.

Hell, the reason they came would rather see Sam dead.

Still, Sam slipped inside and sat at the back right corner. Something about the buildings - the darkness, or the smell, or maybe just how it always seemed to hold the echoes of the people who believed so fully in their power - had always set him at ease.

The man at the front of the room smiled kindly and asked them to stand for the prayer. Sam followed their lead; it had been many years since he'd prayed to God, and even longer since he'd been to a formal service.

He listened as the priest began his sermon, delivering a speech about the redeeming power of God with words that spoke of preparation and belief ( _he's a priest, you moron, of course he believes_ ) and though Sam couldn't bring himself to believe the way the congregation did, it was nice to hear the words and be among people who didn't know what he'd done, how filthy he was, how just stepping foot onto consecrated ground was dangerously close to blasphemy.

"Please bow your heads in personal prayer," the priest said at last, and Sam closed his eyes and hung his head. Where did he even begin?

 _Um, hey,_ he thought uncomfortably. _I know you're not listening. I know you don't even care anymore, you stupid, smarmy son of a bitch. Angels were cast out of Heaven. Hell's civil war is spilling out onto the streets of Earth. Purgatory - well, you know about the shit that's going on there, I'm sure. And you don't fucking bother to help anyone._

 _I used to believe in you. I used to have faith. But after everything - after the way Heaven and Hell have lied, after the way Cas broke so many ways, after the way your Righteous Man has been behaving - I can't anymore. I can't believe you'll ever be able to fix what your children have broken._ He took a shuddering breath and realized he was dangerously close to tears, so he blinked furiously and rubbed his eyes. _I know I don't deserve anything. I'm Lucifer's fucking vessel, and I let an angel kill your prophet with my hands, and I break everything I touch. But man, please. I need something. Turns out everyone who dies going up is stuck behind the Veil, so it's probably a good thing I didn't board up Hell or we'd have those fucking fuckers sticking around too. Strike, what, seven million for Sammy?_

_I've got demon blood in me, and I'm not even sure praying to you isn't blasphemous. But man, please, help Cas out. Please. If any of your angels deserve to have faith in you, it's Castiel. And you've shattered it, you prick! You took the most loyal angel, the one who went against his own kind because he didn't think it's what you would have wanted, and you **shattered** him. You hid from him, and you let him be tricked and manipulated and controlled, and you weren't there to catch him when he gave up. That was us, **we** were there for him, and someone as tainted as me should not have been left to hold up an angel who went on a bender because you cared so fucking little._

_Once upon a time, I thought I could be cleansed. I thought maybe I could be redeemed. I thought maybe I could fight the monster I am, and for a long time, I prayed to you to help me with that. But now I know better, so please. Help Castiel, or help Dean, or help both of them. I know I'm beyond help. But they're not._

_If a disgusting, worthless, weak part-demon's prayer means anything to you - please. Help them. Amen?_

He raised his head a little and glanced around; most people still had their heads down, lips moving. He was a little surprised by what had come pouring out of the little box he usually kept locked tight, but - well. It wasn't like anyone was listening anyway.

He was suddenly, horribly, self-consciously aware his eyes were watering with unshed tears. He couldn't even name why he was crying, except anger was probably part of it. And betrayal, God, Dean had told him _last night_ he'd - he'd trick him into possession _again_ , and just - fuck. Fuck Dean.

He straightened up and absolutely refused to wipe his eyes, blinking back the moisture instead.

***  
Sam went back for the service Wednesday night. He didn't pray on his own then, half-afraid of what thoughts would come out if he chased them down. Dean had continued being a dick all week, trying to act like he hadn't said what he said. Like he'd done absolutely nothing wrong.

Sam let him twist in the wind, hoping maybe he'd get a hint from silence because words just weren't getting through.


	2. 9x13

He found himself sitting in the same space the next Sunday morning. He'd left for his run before Dean had rolled out of bed; Sam truly didn't expect him to be up and moving before noon, if the empty bottles he'd found in the kitchen trash were any indication.

This sermon was on forgiving others, and Sam listened, trying to understand. He'd forgiven Dean a lot - his mistrust, his resentment, his violence - and he was done cutting Dean slack. He had to take care of himself now.

"But do not misunderstand. While there is great power to be had in forgiveness, forgiveness must be earned. Just as we must pray for our Lord to forgive our sins, so too must we understand how we have wronged others before we can be forgiven. There is nothing in this world unforgivable by Christ. Strive to be as Christ in this manner, as in all respects; but do not allow others to take advantage of your nature.

"And now, we will conclude with silent prayer and a short hymn."

Sam bowed his head with the others.

_Hello again, God. Uh, not much has changed. Cas is still being hunted. The other angels continue to be dicks. Crowley is in the wind. Dean's drinking himself to death. Abaddon's wreaking havoc everywhere she goes._

_I can't believe this is your plan. I won't believe it. Maybe you didn't have a plan, maybe the Deists were right. Or maybe you set this up and stepped back, the way scientists throw mice in a biome and see how they behave. Were we just your high-school science experiment, left forgotten to molder away in a forgotten corner?_

_Fuck, God. I've been through shit nobody down here would believe. If I told Dean half of what happened in Hell he wouldn't believe me because his was so different. Why did you do this? Why did you let your angels get so twisted and so corrupt they bring about the Apocalypse for no other reason than being bored with the way Earth was evolving?_

_Look. You have a lot to answer for. But for now, please, help us. Throw us a bone. Kick Metatron's ass, or bolster Cas's dying faith, or help Dean stop drinking. Kevin's death isn't on him, but that's all he feels guilty for. How the hell am I supposed to forgive someone that doesn't regret violating me? Maybe if he's sober he'll figure it out._

_We're dying down here. The demons are killing everyone and your angels don't care, and we've lost too many people in the last few years for us to be able to keep this under control. Please. We need help. Even if you just let the angels know you're still watching them, it may effect enough change for us to fix it ourselves. Amen._

The hymn at the end wasn't one he knew; he'd be surprised if it was.  
***  
He missed Wednesday. They were hunting a rugaru.  
***  
He went in the next Sunday with a black eye and four broken fingers. The priest eyed him but said nothing.

_I know you're not listening, you stupidly self-righteous son of a bitch, but Metatron's doing shit that makes us all nervous. Five years ago Cas gave us a list of the six hundred seals and there are rumors that's starting up again._

_Don't let them raise Lucifer again. Please._

_And let Cas have his faith again._

_Amen._


	3. 9x14

He went in the next Sunday with a black eye and four broken fingers. The priest eyed him but said nothing.

_I know you're not listening, you stupidly self-righteous son of a bitch, but Metatron's doing shit that makes us all nervous. Five years ago Cas gave us a list of the six hundred seals and there are rumors that's starting up again._

_Don't let them raise Lucifer again. Please._

_And let Cas have his faith again._

_Amen._  
***  
They left to hunt a vengeful spirit on Monday, a Rawhead on Tuesday, and witches on Thursday, so Sam missed Wednesday night's meeting. The next Sunday Sam came in with a concussion and two broken ribs on top of the broken fingers from the week before. The priest almost came to speak to him before the sermon, but was waylaid by a couple who spoke to him in lowered voices.

_You wouldn’t believe the shit Dean's pulled this past week. I save his ass and all he can say is 'What was that about not being willing to save me?' and when I tell him it's not the same fucking thing he rolls his eyes, says 'whatever', and leaves to get drunk._

_He's also got the Mark of Cain now, so, whatever. He doesn't get to lecture me about bad choices anymore. There's no way this isn't going to bite us in the ass._

_Haven't heard from Cas in a while. His cell phone's out of commission. Please look out for him - let him be okay._

_Amen._


	4. 9x15

Kevin appeared on a Wednesday. By Friday they'd found Mrs. Tran. She left with him Saturday night.

Kevin's words still lingered in his ears as he sat listening to the sermon the next morning, thankfully uninjured.

_How can Kevin tell me to let it go? He doesn't know everything. He doesn't know **anything.**_

_Heard from Cas. He's doing okay. Had to kill Bartholomew, but from what I understand, that's a good thing. A less-good thing is that angels are pushing him to become their leader. Unless you've actually got a plan for this. But leading isn't good for Cas. It changes him. The last time, he killed hundreds of your angels and opened Purgatory._

_If he's leading again, keep an eye on him. Let him keep his faith that humanity is good, and let him keep sight of what's important. Don't let him lose himself again to angel politics. It isn't good for anybody._

_God, please, either kill me or give Dean some clarity. I can't keep doing this. I can't leave Dean or he'll self-destruct again, but I can't live with him. Everyone's telling me Dean did the right thing in forcing an angel inside me - did he? Am I just overreacting to it? But - the last angel was Lucifer, and before him was Meg. I'm trying to be as nice as I can to him, but all I can think when I look at him is that I can't trust him to have my best interests at heart. Not after Gadreel._

_Souls can't get into Heaven, so I guess Dean was right to stop me from boarding up Hell. I thought closing the gates was a one-way thing, but maybe that was stupid of me. I just couldn't think straight, near the end. Not that that's an excuse. It's pretty damn clear looking back._

_Please help me not fuck up again. Amen._


	5. 9x16

He was almost vibrating with anger when he came to church the next Sunday, ligature marks on his wrists from the . Dean had drunk himself into a stupor, again, and screamed at Sam until he passed out. Sam had dragged his stupid, drunken ass to bed, knowing a lot of it was anger over the car ( _angrier over the car being damaged than over me being damaged_ , he thought irritably), and thrown a blanket over him. Because he was a nice person, he'd even brought in the bottle of aspirin and a glass of water.

_So Crowley's got the First Blade, Abaddon keyed Dean's car, and Cuthbert Sinclair is dead._

_Why is it still Dean's car, huh? Why isn't it **our** car?_

_Why the fuck would you even know that?_

_Still haven't heard from Cas. Help him, please. Maybe get him back to the bunker so he can smack some sense into Dean._

_And while you're at it, kick Metatron's ass, huh? But leave Gadreel for me. But if the bunker just happens to have something on how to kick angel ass without hurting the vessel, that would be **awesome.**_

He got the distinct feeling the priest wanted to speak to him, given how often the older man's eyes had strayed to him during the sermon and how he immediately started back toward him when he was done speaking, but Sam slipped out before he could reach him.

He liked churches, but Lucifer had forever ruined priests.


End file.
